


Stay Awhile

by orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hate to Love, M/M, Moving On, Mutual Pining, Oops, Pining, Professor Otabek Altin, Slow Burn, Teacher-Student Relationship, Yuri is a college student again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-22 00:29:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17652587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Otabek's an esteemed professor, one that nearly the entire campus has taken a liking to. Yuri can't stand him or his stupid glasses or his stupid perfect thighs. He especially can't stand the way Otabek says his name because it reminds him of a show that he's watched way too many goddamn times.Eventually, though, Yuri finds himself falling for him.





	1. Chapter 1

Snow was romantic at first. It was white and glittery, beautiful blankets of it covering the once green grasses around campus. It had been the first time Yuri had actually  _ seen _ snow, considering he grew up in southern California where they never got the pleasure.

Then it became grey and mushy, hideous footprints paved through the once beautiful pillows of it. It got tiresome after a while, Yuri having to stomp the snow from his boots every time he entered a building. Having to hold onto railings and take careful steps just in case he slid on the ice just beneath the thin layer of white.

Fuck, Yuri was beginning to hate snow.

It wasn’t romantic anymore, it was just a pain in the ass. He wished for summer again, forgetting the excitement that had billowed from him when it had first begun to snow. When he caught snowflakes on his tongue and grinned at the sky as fat flakes landed on his cheeks and in his hair.

He was over it.

Yuri stomped his boots on the black mat, already soaked through from the thousands of students and teachers that came through these same doors every morning. It was early in the day, too early for him to be awake, but the only time he was able to take his literature class was at that time.

He’d only recently swapped into this class, a couple weeks into the new semester. Only because a spot had opened up, and only at this time. He already hated the teacher and he hadn’t even met him yet.

Anyone who woke up this early in the morning was not someone Yuri would like, he knew that for certain.

Yuri stepped into the room, a big, dramatic thing. With rows of tables and chairs lining up the way. It was like a theater, the stage being a giant chalkboard and a pulldown screen for a projector.

He chose to sit in the back because if he sat in the back, he could be the first one to leave. He could also pretend he was listening even though he likely wouldn’t. Yuri was smart, he could figure out the class on his own without the teacher’s help.

He was one of the last ones to arrive, all of the seats towards the front already filled with students. Students that had likely been in the class since the semester had started. Already familiar with the curriculum and the way the class worked.

He slid into a chair a few down from a classmate who he eyed curiously. Redheaded and wild-eyed, she shot him a smile when he sat down, but then turned back towards the front.

He slid his backpack to the floor and tugged out his laptop, opening it up just in time for the professor to pop in.

“Good morning, everyone,” He said. His voice was low and thick, confidence weaved into every word. He was good at projecting his voice, the sound of it loud and clear even where Yuri sat, all the way at the top of the room and in the back. He felt like he was miles away, but that voice made him feel like he was closer.

He squinted and tried to make out a face, but it was hard. Thick rimmed glasses made it even harder to make out any features.

Whatever, it wasn’t like he gave a shit what his teacher looked like.

The excited  _ good morning Professor Altin _ that he received in return had Yuri raising his eyebrows. He was used to monotony from the class, false excitement whenever a teacher introduced themselves. This was new. Not that he cared, as he slipped his earbuds in and turned on a Netflix show.

Halfway through, he must have fallen asleep. Drifted off on his keyboard. He hadn’t slept much the night before, having stayed up late with his dorm mate. They’d made a game out of watching TV shows together that generally went along the lines of  _ everytime XX says XX take a shot _ . That had gotten him absolutely plastered before midnight, but that didn't stop him.

He’d stayed up till nearly three in the morning laughing and drinking beer. Because this was college and he could do that.

“Hello,” Came a voice, too goddamned close to his ear. He reached his hand out to shut up whoever it was, half asleep and expecting it to be Leo.

“M’sleeping.”

“I see that, Mr. Plisetsky. Care to explain why you’re asleep in my class?” The smooth voice replied. Well, that was definitely not Leo. Not unless his voice had dropped an octave.

His eyes snapped open, head lifting from his keyboard. He swiped at the absent trail of drool coming from the side of his mouth, eyes focusing on whomever it was that was waking him from a very fantastic sleep. “Uhh, I was tired?”

“I can see that. I think you should try getting more rest before coming to my class and sleeping. Or let me know what it is that is so boring for you,” He looked extremely unamused. His brows were furrowed, glasses sliding down the length of his nose. He was kneeling beside Yuri, and Yuri would be lying if he said his eyes didn’t drop to see his pants riding up around his ankles.

God damn, he had nice thighs.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again,” Yuri mumbled, snapping his laptop shut as Professor Altin stood. 

“Good. If it does, I will make sure to deduct a full letter grade for every snore I hear,” Professor Altin replied, pushing his glasses back up his nose. Yuri just stared at him for a moment, seemingly entranced by the hair falling into his face and the muscles in his jaw as he clenched his teeth.

Good thing he had already pissed off a  _ very _ popular Professor. Because that was what he needed to be doing on his very first day in his class. After sitting on a waitlist for over four weeks, praying every day that someone would drop their seat before classes were locked in.

“That’s not fair,” Yuri started, but Professor Altin was rolling his sleeves up and walking back down the stairs. Away from Yuri and his protests as if he couldn’t hear him.

“Neither is you sleeping in my class, Mr. Plisetsky. I would expect more from someone in your position.”

_ Someone in his position _ meant  _ someone who was his father’s son _ . His father had fought tooth and nail for him to get into this University, as it was prestigious and extremely difficult to get into. He had done well in high school and community college. He had passed every class and ended both with a fantastic GPA.

He likely could have gotten in on his own merits, but his father was  _ alumni _ and he had called up the school and offered a sizeable donation as long as his son got in. Yuri was going to have to carry that for the rest of his four years here, and it was quite embarrassing.

“Yes sir,” Yuri mumbled. He slid from the chair and snatched up his bag after slipping his laptop back into it. Professor Altin didn’t spare him another glance, but Yuri watched him for a minute as he cleaned the chalkboard.

He definitely snuck a peek at his ass, deeming it quite delicious. 

_ Jesus Christ, Yuri, this isn’t a fucking romance novel. _

He slipped from the room with a sigh. Hopefully, he could avoid pissing him off any further. A full letter grade was  _ definitely _ a way to keep him from sleeping the next time he had class.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


“You pissed off  _ Professor Altin _ ?” Leo asked, mouth agape as he turned from the television to where Yuri stood near his bed.

Good, good. Of course Leo was going to rub it in. Of course. He should have expected that. The two of them had become roommates at the beginning of the year, and they had clicked nearly instantly. Yuri adored the shit out of him, albeit a little bit too much. Except when he was being a downright twat like he was at the moment. 

“Yeah,” Yuri replied, shrugging his coat off. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to rid himself of the wet and the cold. It didn’t happen though. Again, Yuri was tired of winter.

“I didn’t know it was even possible to do that. Congratulations, Yuri, you have entered a new level.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Yuri snarled, launching a can of beer at Leo’s head. Leo caught it though, always quick on his toes. His reflexes were disturbingly fast.

“Tell me when and where,” Leo retorted, cracking open the can before tilting it back.

Yuri stared at him incredulously. He was never sure what exactly Leo was thinking. Or if he was ever serious in his flirting. Yuri was tempted to take him up on the offer just to see if he would actually go through with it. That would make their entire friendship weird though, and Yuri didn’t like weird.

Yuri flopped down beside him, opening his own can before nudging Leo’s arm. “What are we watching?”

“True Blood,” Leo grinned, shaking his beer around. “I got special vodka just for the occasion.”

“What the fuck is  _ special vodka _ ?”

“Oh, you know, not like that cheap ass Svedka bullshit you buy that tastes kind of like rubbing alcohol.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Yuri laughed. “Not like this shit tastes any different. Vodka usually all tastes the same.”

“It does if you soak gummy bears in it,” Leo said, holding up a large pitcher of vodka. With gummy bears in it. 

Yuri’s lip curled in disgust, but he wasn’t one to turn down vodka. Honestly, vodka was the only alcohol he ever really drank because it was honest and pure. That and it didn’t give him headaches like Tequila or make him mean like Bourbon.

“We’ve seen True Blood like twice now,” Yuri sighed, taking another swig of his beer before he had to stop drinking it. Beer and vodka never mixed very well, he had learned that the hard way when it all came back up the way it went down.

“Okay, but  _ this  _ time. This time we drink every time Bill says  _ Sookie _ all smoky-like.”

“Are you trying to give us both alcohol poisoning?”

“Yes, isn’t that what University is all about? Getting your stomach pumped at least once a month because otherwise, you’re boring.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and settled in, ready to take an obscene amount of shots. Because Bill said  _ Sookie _ more often than he said anything else in the entirety of the fucking show. And he said it in that low, smoky drawl that peaked Yuri’s interests. Not that he had a thing for low, smoky voices or anything.  _ Ha-ha. _

It wasn’t even eleven before Yuri was tapping out, shoving the vodka away as if it were going to catch fire and kill them both. He felt woozy and tired, wave after wave of it slamming into him and threatening sleep.

Leo was still unnaturally sober, watching Yuri carefully. Most likely to make sure he didn’t vomit all over his shoes or something.

“I should sleep before I start talking about shit no one cares about,” Yuri mused, toeing off his shoes before he half-assedly crawled onto his bed fully clothed. He made no effort to take his shirt off, even though he usually slept in his briefs.

Leo helped tuck him in, laughing about Yuri being a lightweight and a  _ discount Russian _ because he believed Russians should be able to hold their liquor.

“I’m American, asshole,” Yuri grumbled, face buried in his pillow.

“Yeah, but you’re of Russian descent. Doesn’t that mean you should be able to drink with the big boys?”

“I weigh like 145 pounds, fuck off.”

He heard Leo laughing before his eyes slid shut, sleep washing over him.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


Yuri woke up to his alarm, loud and blaring in his ears. He reached towards his bedside table and slapped around until he found the offensive phone screeching offensive noises in his ears.

It was too fucking early to get out of bed, and Yuri was hungover. He had drunk too much and his head felt as if it were going to explode. Or implode, whichever was more likely to happen.

Fingers grasped at the phone, knocking it to the floor instead of pulling it in to shut off the alarm. Yuri was cranky in the morning, always resorting to knocking shit over and refusing to turn off his alarm. It eventually shut up, Yuri drifting back to sleep, but only for a moment.

It started up again, louder, Yuri growling before he finally leaned over the bed to snatch it from the floor.

“Shut the fuck up, you piece of shit,” He grumbled as he squinted at the sudden intrusion of light to flick off the alarm.

_ 9:43 _

Shit. He was late.

Yuri scrambled out of bed, head pounding, stomach seizing as he tried his hardest not to puke on the carpet. He had to pee really badly, but as he slid his shirt on and tried to rid his hair of any tangles, he wasn’t sure if he had the time.

He weighed his grade against his likeliness of obtaining some sort of urinary infection and decided to pee before leaving.

As he sprinted across campus, he nearly slipped on multiple occasions. He cut corners through grass he shouldn’t be treading on and nearly flew into another student when he swung open the door. He stomped the snow from his boots before booking it to his class, hoping and praying that Professor Altin didn’t notice his absence.

It was eerie how observant he was though, eyes landing on Yuri when he sheepishly appeared in the classroom over 20 minutes too fucking late.

“Mr. Plisetsky, how nice of you to join us,” He said, every person in the class turning to look at him. 

Yuri froze, hand on the strap of his backpack. He looked down at the redhead a few seats over, annoyed to find that she was trying to hide her smile.

“Uh, I am running a little bit late.”

“Yes, and the sky is blue, Mr. Plisetsky. Care to explain why you are late?”

“Ah. I was studying really hard last night and I-”

“Sit please, and don’t be late again.” His warning struck Yuri like lightning, but he just nodded as he sat down.

“You should probably work a little harder to  _ not _ make the most well-liked teacher on campus dislike you,” The redhead whispered, eyes wide as she peered at him.

“I’m not doing it on purpose.”

“Plisetsky? Like-”

“Yes. Like Ivan Plisetsky.  _ The _ Ivan Plisetsky. Can we not?”

“Okay,” The girl replied, smile still on her face as she watched Yuri pull his laptop out. “What’s your first name?”

“Yuri,” He said curtly, not returning her gaze.

“I’m Mila.”

Yuri glanced at her for a moment, mostly just to acknowledge that he heard her because he was a lot of things, but  _ rude for no reason _ wasn’t usually one of them.

He found himself fighting sleep again, but not because Professor Altin was boring, but because he had made the mistake of getting wasted and getting wasted meant having a very restless sleep. University was grating on him already. He missed community college because the workload was smaller. It was easier. He didn’t have to worry about as much and he was definitely sober a lot more often.

Class ended, Yuri staring at his laptop intently as everyone filed from the room. Professor Altin had asked him to stay, pointing at him from across the room before he allowed everyone else to leave. He was ready to get chewed out, to listen to him say he lost a letter grade because Yuri was disrespectful.

“Is there anything that I can do to have you attend my classes in a timely manner, Mr. Plisetsky?” Professor Altin asked, drumming his fingers on his desk from the front of the room. It made him feel smaller, somehow, the way he stood at his desk so far away instead of coming closer.

Yuri shrugged and closed his laptop. “I guess I just need to drink less.”

“Ah, yes. The joys of youth and University. I can assure you that getting wasted on a consistent basis is going to do anything but help your grades, Mr. Plisetsky.”

Yuri really hated the way he said Mr. Plisetsky. It made him think of his father.

“Yuri,” He replied, standing from his chair. He slipped his backpack over his shoulder before he headed towards the door. “I’ll work on it.”

“I sure hope you do, Yuri. I would hate to have to deduct from your grade as I know you are a bright student.”

His voice sent shivers down Yuri’s spine, the way he said Yuri's name almost reminding him of the way Bill would say  _ Sookie _ so lovingly. It was like a caress, tickling him down to the bone.

“Yes, sir.”


	2. Chapter 2

Otabek rose before the sun most mornings, arm reaching over towards the empty side of his bed. Then he remembered he was alone, though it wasn’t as if that were a new occurrence. His ex had been gone for years, but his eyes always landed on the other side of the bed.

It wasn’t uncommon for him, in his sleepy haze, to see him there. To see the orange and silver strips of light from the street lights and the moon casting shadows over his sharp edges. It was almost tangible. Almost enough to make him roll over and bury his face into an arm that wasn’t there. To kiss him awake, lazy and slow, lips dancing to a beat that was all their own.

“ _ Jayce _ ,” He whispered, over and over, like a mantra his lips would never forget. The muscle memory of it washed over him, as if he had never left, as if Otabek wasn’t alone and cold and cocooned in this bed in this house that they had made together. 

The last one died on his lips when the blur faded and his brain caught up to the fact that he was very much awake. That no one was there and no one had been there for years.

It took every ounce of strength that he could muster to roll over, away from the emptiness and the ice that clung to the forgotten side of the bed. The one that hadn’t been slept in for years because he was old and tired and no one wanted to bed him anymore. Not that he had tried, because he hadn’t.

Otabek didn’t do one night stands and he didn’t have much of a life outside of his work. He had told himself he would never marry again. He’d come to enjoy the lazy mornings that he spent alone, hunched over coffee beans. Crushing them into his morning cup of caffeine.

His feet hit the floor, searching for his stray slippers. He pulled on his robe and put on his glasses, blinking the sleep from his eyes before he stretched. His spine cracked with the movement, a reminder that he was only getting older, never younger.

“Good morning, Clyde,” He rasped lovingly, scratching his dog behind the ears before dropping a cup full of food into his bowl.

He set to making his coffee with exactly two spoonfuls of sugar and a dash of milk. He slid into a stool seated at his counter and rifled through his phone as he sipped at his coffee. As much as he missed having someone around, it was comforting to have time to himself. Time before he had to go to work and greet people with a smile that he forced onto his face because he was  _ Professor Altin _ and everyone adored him.

To be frank, though, Otabek didn’t care much for other people. That was why his family and friends always gave him shit about his career choice.

_ A teacher that hates other people _ was rather amusing to anyone who knew him. Unfortunately, Otabek found his pleasures in teaching others the things he knew about literature. Literature was everything to him, from classic Shakespeare to James Joyce, or even J.D. Salinger because  _ Catcher in the Rye _ was a work of art that he assumed everyone had read at some point.

His desire to teach overrode his desire to dislike everyone around him, and that’s why, in the end, he became a professor.

Otabek finished his coffee as he watched Clyde through the back door. He traipsed happily through the snow, leaving holes in the white blanket before he came bounding inside. He toweled him off before scolding him off the couch, trooping down the hallway to brush his teeth and shower.

Otabek loved winter. At least, when he was younger he did. Now it just inspired poetry or half-written lyrics to songs he would never perform because he was old and tired. Being old and tired had made him rather grumpy, and now the snow was nothing more than an annoyance. The wind chill made his bones hurt.

He was only 28, but he sure as hell didn’t feel like it.

The sun had just begun to crest over the horizon as he stepped into the building, met with a rush of warm air while he dragged his shoes over the mat.

“Morning, Otabek,” JJ said, sidling up beside him as they both headed down the hallway. He was the only other professor Otabek had made friends with, deeming the rest of them either too old or too dull. Or a combination of both. Though it probably had something to do with his disdain towards other people.

“Morning,” He mumbled, pulling his scarf off.

“Something wrong?” JJ mused, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You seem doomier and gloomier than usual.”

“I didn’t know I was either doomy or gloomy to begin with,” Otabek replied, unbuttoning his coat as they neared his office. “I was under the impression that I was quite the delight.”

“Ah,” JJ laughed, just before they would split to head in opposite directions. “You may have your students fooled, but I know you.”

Otabek just huffed, ignoring JJ to unlock his door.

After they parted, he spent his time grading papers before his first class. The class that Yuri Plisetsky was in, of whom he hoped would be alert and on time. He had given it a lot of thought to what he’d said to Yuri, but he didn’t want to fall back on his words.

Otabek had come across a lot of students with alumni for parents or older siblings, and he had never been the type to give them an easy ride because of the blood that ran through their veins. Yuri would not be the first and he would not be the last. He was not going to give him an easy time simply because of who his father was.

As his lecture went on, he found his eyes traveling back up to Yuri. Every time, Yuri would be staring back, chin resting on the palm of his hand. His piercing green eyes would brighten for a moment, lips lifting into a smile. It made every nerve in Otabek’s body sit up as if hoping for  _ more _ . As if Yuri’s eyes were a lingering touch that swept over him.

Otabek would pause, clear his throat, and then look away. He could still feel that gaze though, burning holes through him from across the room.

He was certain Yuri did not like him, but that was fine. Otabek didn’t like him much either.

Otabek didn’t really like anyone.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────

 

Otabek tipped his glass back, the whiskey burning a path down his throat. It was warm and his body was languid, eyes slow as he glanced around the bar. It wasn’t unusual for him to find students of his here, though neither of them would speak to one another. It was an unspoken rule that off of campus, Otabek was just a normal person.

That was why, when he spotted a certain blonde across the way, he nearly choked on his drink.

JJ slapped his back, eyes following in the direction Otabek had just been staring. He squinted and looked back towards Otabek, still patting his back as he coughed up the drink.

“See something scary?”

“Someone from one of my classes,” Otabek wheezed, hand over his chest. It burned in more ways than one, an uncomfortable fire that sat in his chest.

“Doesn’t that happen a lot? I’ve told you we can find a bar  _ outside _ of town-”

“I like this bar.”

“Then you shouldn’t be surprised when you find your students here.”

“Yeah,” Otabek coughed. He slid his glass over the bar top, watching as the bartender filled it back up. 

Otabek had been coming to this bar for years. He had never blinked twice when he saw one of his students, but for some reason, seeing Yuri evoked  _ something _ .

JJ seemed to perk up then, eyes back towards where Otabek had been looking before he breathed in his whiskey. “Oh,” He began, grinning as he looked back towards Otabek. “Yuri Plisetsky, huh?”

“Do you know him?” Otabek asked, trying his hardest to hide any interest. He had no interest. He couldn’t have any interest. Yuri was a massive pain in his ass.

_ Stu-dent _ he told himself.

“Know him? He was in my class last semester,” JJ paused, taking a swig of his beer before looking back towards Yuri. “That little shit was late so often. He’s lucky his papers were pure gold. I wanted to give him an F but I couldn’t. Kid is smart.”

Otabek glanced in Yuri’s direction before looking back down at his drink. “You know me, JJ. I’m not going to let him pass if he tries that with me.”

“Professor Hard-Ass over here,” JJ teased. “Why are you so interested in Yuri?”

Otabek snorted. He trailed his fingers over the condensation forming on the outside of his glass. “I’m not.”

“Whatever you say, Beks,” JJ retorted.

Otabek spent the next hour staring intently at his glass as he listened to JJ go on about his wife. Otabek was only half listening, the alcohol dulling his senses to the point that he thought maybe it was time to go home and go to sleep.

He lifted his arm and looked at his watch.

_ 9:15pm _

On a Friday night. Otabek was getting old. 

He excused himself to use the restroom, nearly stumbling into someone just before he reached the door. As he steadied himself to apologize, his stomach flipped when he saw who it was.

“Professor,” Yuri said, voice a lot less rigid than usual as he stepped out of the way. “I didn’t know you drank.”

“What I do outside of work isn’t really your business, Mr. Plisetsky,” Otabek said, skirting around him. Because he really, really had to pee. And he really,  _ really _ had no interest in speaking with a drunk Yuri while he himself was drifting on the edge of sobriety.

“That’s true, but outside of school you’re just Otabek,” Yuri said his name so sweetly as if it were a normal thing for him to be speaking to his teacher outside of school and calling him by his first name. They were both intoxicated, and Otabek felt a flicker of warmth in his chest.

Otabek had frozen in place, fingers curling and uncurling before he turned his face to look over his shoulder. “I’m still your teacher, Mr. Plisetsky.”

He caught himself fixing his glasses, a nervous tic that he had tried so hard to fix over the years. It never really stuck though.

“Right,” Yuri smiled, head cocked to the side. Otabek could almost feel the heat of Yuri’s gaze as it rolled down his body, then back up, finally landing on his face. “You look a lot hotter when you aren’t a marble statue staring everyone down all the time.”

Otabek felt his breath catch in his chest. “Mr. Plisetsky, that’s not an appropriate thing for you to say to your professor.”

“You’re not my professor here,” Yuri said carefully. Otabek could feel the heat rising over his chest, up his throat, to his face. “I’m just stating that you’re attractive.”

_ Student _ was all that Otabek’s mind was whispering. Yuri’s words fell around him, and the knot that was tied so securely in his chest only seemed to tighten even more. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

Yuri seemed to ponder this, Otabek flushing when Yuri’s eyes dropped to his backside. “See you Monday,  _ sir _ .”

The last bit rolled off his tongue in a way that should not have been so dirty. Otabek flinched and snapped his head back, heading down the hallway towards the restroom. Sir was only a title he had been given often by many of his students, but the way Yuri had said it sparked something. The way it tumbled from his lips so easily sent Otabek into a spiral.

_ Student. Student. Student. _

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


Otabek dropped onto his bed, over the covers, fully clothed. He toed off his shoes, eyes heavy with sleep. He was cold and wanted nothing more than to crawl under the covers but he was so tired. So tired and heavy and he couldn’t bring himself to move.

So he didn’t. He just closed his eyes and drifted off, crashing into the dream that was always a constant in his life.

A constant reminder of the things he had, the life he had built, the home he had purchased and the ring he still held in his pocket.

He didn’t think about Yuri, nor did he dream of him. He dreamt of Jayce and the bounce of his curls between his fingers. Of his eyes that were silver and not grey, with little flecks of blue that shined like gemstones. Of the way he felt curled around Otabek, the scruff on his chin scraping across his cheek.

It was always like this. He would wake in the morning and stare at the space next to him. Hoping, wishing, praying, that maybe he was still asleep. 

That Jayce’s absence was only an elaborate nightmare that had twisted into a makeshift reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm doing this thing with this fic where I try to write from Otabek's POV every other chapter.  
> This is proving to be a challenge but I've accepted it :)))))))


	3. Chapter 3

_ Tink tink tink _ . “Yuri,” Leo said, clinking their glasses together.

Yuri only half heard him though, his eyes fixated on Otabek who was seated at the bar. He was a lot different than he was on campus, a lot less hard edges and tired lines. A lot more laid back with messy hair and rolled up sleeves. All his jagged edges were softened here. Very unlike the professor he saw nearly every day. Marble and cold, a pristine statue of a Greek god who never smiled.

Was that a tattoo crawling up his forearm? His thoughts dipped into running his tongue over them, tracing the ink with slicked paths of saliva.

“Yuri,” Leo said again, waving his hand in front of Yuri’s face.

“What?”

“You’re staring.”

“I’m not,” Yuri mumbled, shifting his eyes towards Leo. Of whom was glaring at him with furrowed eyebrows.

Yuri reached out and rubbed the line away with the pad of his finger.

“You were,” Leo replied, eyes drifting towards where Yuri had been gazing. “Professor Altin?”

“He’s hot,” Yuri shrugged. 

“You’re not wrong.”

Yuri choked on his drink. Even with all the flirty jokes Leo made at his expense, he still wasn’t entirely sure whether he was interested in men or not. Maybe he was just a straight man who was comfortable with his sexuality to the point that he could agree. Or he was gay. Or bi. Yuri just kind of choked whilst Leo laughed.

“Sometimes I don’t know whether you’re being serious or not,” Yuri said, tracing his finger around the rim of his drink. Still watching Otabek. 

“I’m always serious,” Leo stated. “You just can’t be assed to pay attention.”

Yuri slid him a sideways glance, unsure. Leo was picking at him, as he always was.

“Anyways, do you think-”

“You can get Professor Altin to swoon over you?” Leo let out a rush of air. “Good luck. He’s been mourning his husband for years.”

“God, I didn’t say  _ that _ .” But he had, without really saying the words. In the longing lacing his words. In the breathiness of his voice. He wanted to blame his drink, pushing all his inhibitions aside and flaying him open.

“You didn’t have to.”

“Husband?” Yuri asked, one eyebrow arched quizzically. Otabek didn’t wear a ring. At least, not one he had seen. Or noticed. Not that he had spent much time looking at his professor’s knuckles. Well, he had, noticing little scars over a few of them. He wanted to know what they would taste like.

God, he hated Otabek.

“Mm,” Leo began, sipping his drink. Then he was all waving arms and theatrics. “His husband died in a motorcycle accident like three years ago. It was all over the news for a long time.”

Of course Yuri had to be semi-interested in a train wreck. Yuri Plisetsky had a knack for finding the type.

He just kind of clicked his tongue and tipped his glass to the side. He spared another glance towards Otabek, but decided maybe for once he shouldn’t try to be a tour guide for sad pathetic souls of whom he thought he could fix. Yuri seemed magnetized towards that type. As if his bones were magnets drawn towards the rigidness of their spines. They always had that rigidity about them. The sad, pathetic types.

“Being interested in a teacher would be stupid anyway,” Yuri replied. Then he drank. Drank some more, until his muscles loosened and his face flushed pink. He found himself eyeing Leo’s lips, especially when his tongue ran over them to chase the drops of his drink.

He eyed the curve of his upper lip, down to the swell of his lower. He wanted so badly to touch them, to see if they felt as soft as they looked.

“I have to pee,” He said suddenly, nearly stumbling from his chair. Leo leaned out to catch him, arm gripping Yuri’s elbow in a way that shouldn’t have been intimate, but it sent a cascade of pleasure down his spine. “I’ll be right back.”

He tugged his arm away before he could go any further. This wasn’t a Disney movie. Leo wasn’t the prince that was going to save him. Leo was his best friend, and that was all there was to that. Even though he wanted nothing more than to crush him into his mattress and ride him until the sun came up.

The zipper of his pants was loud and raspy in the quiet bathroom, Yuri taking interest in the writings on the wall. Of course there were words sprawled over them, ranging from vulgar insults to  _ call me _ .

Yuri thought it was silly. Writing your number on a bathroom wall in hopes that another person would find it and think to themselves:  _ yeah that’s someone I really want to fuck. _

After washing up and leaving, he nearly bulldozed over Otabek, who was watching the floor beneath his feet instead of what was happening in front of him. Yuri smiled coyly, but it dropped from his face the moment Otabek recognized him. He went from blissfully dancing on the corners of intoxication to very steely. An opened book of beautiful poetry that slammed shut in front of his face.

Their altercation was tight and tense, and Yuri couldn’t help but sweep a gaze over the length of his body. He had wonderful legs, muscled wonderfully beneath his jeans that seemed to shape them perfectly. His shirt was untucked, the top buttons loosened. He had half-assedly rolled the sleeves to his elbows, Yuri’s eyes raking greedily over the tendons. He wanted his tongue there, too, he decided.

That definitely  _ was _ a tattoo.

He caught Otabek blushing just before he stormed off. Yuri chewed on his lip and stared at his ass, so enticingly plump and god he was horny.

He  _ tched _ to himself for fawning over his teacher as if this were a porno where something would actually happen. It was reality, and that kind of thing was as likely to happen as having a sexy plumber come to  _ fix your pipes _ or whatever they did in porn.

“You’re very red,” Leo observed, wagging a finger in Yuri’s direction.

“I’m drunk.”

“Hmm,” Leo started, but he didn’t continue. Not with the sharp glare that Yuri tossed him. It was if he already knew what had happened even though Yuri didn’t say a damn thing.

“Can we go now?”

He couldn’t help but slide his eyes down to Leo’s chest, shirt too tight. It made Yuri weary. And overly aware of his drunken state and his sudden desire to rip it off.

“Okay,” Leo replied, finishing off his drink before he slid from his chair.

He grabbed for Yuri’s hand, sending shocks down the length of his arm. Yuri tingled pleasantly, following him out into the night. Where it was cold and sober and the world continued on outside of the little bubble that was this bar.

They called an Uber and rode back in silence, Yuri’s fingers twitching in his lap. He felt a lot more sobered out here, where the cold touched his skin and chilled him to the bone. When he looked over at Leo, he was staring intently at his phone, a smile tipping his lips upwards.

The trek to their room felt unending, everything slowed and dull. The edges of his vision felt blurry and not-really-there. 

He unlocked the door while Leo stared at him, as if trying to process why Yuri was so uncharacteristically quiet.

The minute Leo closed the door, Yuri slammed him into it. Their bodies pressed together, the distance between them infinitesimally small. Leo gasped and Yuri wanted to know what that sound would taste like.

“What are you doing?” Leo asked, the raggedness of his breathing loud between their silence.

“Fucking you,” Yuri said bluntly.

“I-” Leo looked confused, comically so. Then his face was smooth as if the pieces slid together. “You’re drunk.”

“Only a little,” Yuri breathed, hands moving to grasp Leo’s wrists. He was a lot stronger than Yuri, he could feel it in the thickness of his wrists. In the way the tendons moved beneath his fingers, twitching to break free.

“You can’t do this when you’re drunk,” Leo warned.

“I can do whatever I want.”

Yuri pressed Leo’s wrists against the door above his head. Surprisingly, Leo let him. He could have easily broken away, Yuri’s long fingers were big enough to pin him in place, but not strong enough to withstand Leo’s denial if he had wanted to.

He didn’t though, the groan that slipped from his lips tasted like booze and spice.

Yuri chased the taste into his lips, parted just enough for Yuri’s tongue to slip between them. He chased after the remnants of Jack and Coke, of a spicy-sweet flavor, of something that was so  _ Leo _ it made him growl.

His spare hand ran down the length of Leo’s body, feeling the stretch of it. The pure strength beneath his fingers, muscles quivering. Then his hand went up Leo’s shirt, the moan it elicited so wanton it made Yuri pull away.

“God, you’re  _ really _ into this,” Yuri whispered, the air between them sticky and sweet. Leo’s eyes fluttered, eyelashes so long and thick it made Yuri wonder briefly what they would feel like.

“I’m drunk,” Leo breathed. Yuri let his wrists go, backing away. “But only a little.”

The way he mocked Yuri had him tripping over the cusp of pure need. That little smile that lifted from the left first sending a shiver down his spine.

“I don’t like weird,” Yuri stated. More to himself than Leo.

“It doesn’t have to be weird.”

“How so?” Yuri asked, trying to shift so his cock would stop rubbing uncomfortably in his pants.

“You can have sex without some deep rooted feelings. It doesn’t have to be weird.”

“Are you telling me you want to have sex with me?” It was Yuri’s turn to smile, a shy thing flitting over his lips.

“God, yeah. For a long time.”

He pinned Leo against the wood again, their lips sliding together. It was as if Leo’s lips were meant to be there, pressed between Yuri’s so perfectly. He could feel every groove of them, every line in the plush swell of them. Wet and hot, the sounds of their kiss a song that Yuri didn’t want to stop listening to. He chased after Leo’s tongue, his hand running up the length of his cock trapped in his jeans.

Leo groaned and tipped his head back, throat exposed to Yuri. Vulnerable and trusting. Yuri latched onto it with his lips and his teeth, leaving love bites in their wake. He could feel every sound that Leo swallowed, his lips tracing down the column of his neck. He bit Leo’s pulse and then licked it, smiling against his skin at the sound Leo emanated.

Yuri rubbed his cock very slowly. Deliberately and with meaning. Leo was bucking his hips into it, the whimpers that slipped from his mouth a cadence of desire. 

The monster that clawed within him wanted to sink its teeth into every inch of Leo’s skin. His feather light touches up the length of his body had Leo shivering in anticipation. Then he was ripping off his shirt and Yuri was running his tongue over his chest.

Yuri admired the smattering of dark hair over his chest, the bit that drifted down from his belly button. He’d always known Leo was attractive, but like this, pinned between Yuri and the doorway half naked, was the sexiest Yuri had ever seen him. He was lean and tight, hard muscles stretched under his skin. 

When Leo’s fingers tangled into Yuri’s hair, Yuri let go of his length, suddenly annoyed by the amount of denim between his fingers and the velvet-soft skin beneath it. He struggled to unbutton Leo’s jeans, growling in frustration before he finally tugged the button from the loop. He unzipped and reached inside, pulling out his erection with a hum of approval.

He touched the tip of it, the pearl of precum that had gathered at the top. Leo moaned. Yuri watched him as he licked it from his finger. Leo’s lips parted, an inviting kiss, but Yuri was too interested in licking at his finger as if Leo’s cum was the best icing he’d ever tasted.

“You sure it won’t be weird?” Yuri asked suddenly, but the smirk on his face gave away the game. The press of his own erection in his pants fighting against any fleeting feeling that he should pull away. That he should stop. He didn’t want to stop.

“We can make it not weird,” Leo breathed.

Yuri dragged his tongue over Leo’s nipple before he straightened, pulling himself from his own jeans. He pressed forward, the drag of their skin together erupting in little pleasure-bright stars beneath his eyelids.

“Fuck,” Yuri grumbled, wrapping his hands around them both. Leo’s hands clasped around his.

Yuri started slow, slowly fucking into their hands that gripped so tightly around them both. He bit his lip and leaned forward, breathing into Leo’s shoulder. He licked a stripe over his skin, sweet and salty and everything that encapsulated Leo stinging his tongue.

“Yuri,” Leo rumbled, body tensing.

“Yeah,” Yuri said quietly, standing back. He looked down between them, watching their hands slip down their shafts and back up. Watched the way their lengths lined up and slid together between their hands. “So good.”

It was too slow, too gentle. It pushed him to the edge of his orgasm, a great chasm of promise spread out before him. It wasn’t enough though, not quick enough, not hard enough. Maybe it was the alcohol rushing through him, or maybe he needed more.

Leo seemed to catch on. He knocked Yuri’s hands away. Yuri placed them on either side of Leo’s head, against the door that they were still pressed into. Leo took over from there, fisting their cocks together with an aggression that made Yuri’s toes curl in his shoes.

He almost sunk to his knees when his orgasm crashed over him, wave after wave of it. Relentless and unforgiving. The streaks of cum that roped over Leo’s hands and over both of them barely registered as his eyes squeezed shut.

He growled something akin to Leo’s name before Leo spilled between them as well, panting and huffing while he rubbed against Yuri’s overly-sensitive flesh.

When Yuri opened his eyes again, he blinked away the haze. He stared down at the strips of cum over his shirt and pursed his lips. This was the part where it became awkward. Without the promise of release or sex, where everything that was reality splashed over them like a bucket of ice water.

“Not weird,” Leo said, tugging his jeans back into place. Then he swiped his finger over the mix of pleasure on his stomach and stuck it into his mouth. Yuri opened his mouth, but Leo just grinned. “Don’t make it weird.”

Yuri chose to say nothing instead, standing there. His gaze landed on the door when Leo pushed away. His jeans were halfway down, but he felt anything but awkward. Amazingly enough, he felt nothing but numb. A little bit wonderful. Like he’d just eaten a cake that was soft and decadent, and not rubbed his cock hungrily against his roommate’s.

He turned then, seeing Leo sprawled over his bed. Looking properly fucked-out and tired, hand draped over his head dramatically.

“You okay?” Yuri asked, throat dry as he tried to swallow. Leo glanced down. Yuri pulled up his briefs to hide his deflating length. As if Leo hadn’t just touched it and then eaten his cum. Or his own cum. Probably a mixed cocktail of both mingled with some sweat.

“I’m fine,” Leo grinned, dropping his hand from his head. “That was good. Great, even.”

“You sure you aren’t going to pine after me and want to date me?”

Leo snorted. Yuri was a little hurt by that. “No, Yuri. You’re not really my type.”

“I was your type a few minutes ago.”

“We wanked off together and then I ate your jizz. It was wonderful. I’d do it again, honestly. I’ve considered it before. Will consider it again. Still not my type.”

Yuri exhaled. Fixed his jeans. Which was silly because he would likely just take them off in a few to go to sleep. “Roommates who wank off together sometimes.”

Leo’s grin brightened. “Something like that. Also, I know you were probably wishing I was Otabek or something kinky like that. I imagine there’s an entire porno of you in a school uniform getting bent over his desk in your head.”

Yuri guffawed in the truest sense of the word. A loud, embarrassed noise that sounded a bit like a squeak. “It’s over his  _ knee _ not his desk. I have  _ some  _ class.”

Leo just snickered, closing his eyes. Yuri took that as his cue to shut up, slithering out of his pants before collapsing onto his bed. 

Into a dream that he wouldn't recall when he woke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I have a yearning for some Leo/Yuri.  
> Sorry not sorry. :)))))
> 
> (How many of my fics can I sneak this relationship into as like a side thing? >_>)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter is a tad emotional. Mentions of death (not gruesome), and a slight mention of suicide. Grief and mourning are prevalent.

Otabek met Jayce his third year at university. He was always the brightest star in the room. No matter where he went, he was all smiles with laughter like windchimes. 

It happened by accident, the two of them becoming friends. Otabek spent his time at parties in the corner drinking by himself, while Jayce stood in the middle telling jokes and sipping on soda because he was a goody two shoes.

Otabek really didn’t like him at first. Which was silly, considering  _ everyone _ liked him. It was hard not to. He had a charming face with a small, upturned nose. Plump lips and wide eyes that shined silver with tiny flecks of blue. His curls bounced enthusiastically with every jovial laugh that flew from his lips, platinum blonde with streaks of gold that glinted like the sun.

Maybe that was why Otabek didn’t like him. He found himself staring at someone who was his polar opposite. Otabek didn’t like people, and he especially didn’t like people who tried so hard to be his friend.

Jayce approached him at one of those parties. Otabek gripped his cup and stared until Jayce said  _ howdy _ with his southern drawl.

“Hi,” Otabek had replied.

“You looked mighty lonely over here,” Jayce offered, leaning just a bit closer. He smelled of rosewood and patchouli.

“I like it that way,” Otabek shrugged. He assumed maybe his single syllable responses would drive Jayce away, but it instead pulled him closer.

“Why’s that?” He asked, head tipped to the side. His accent was smooth like butter. Otabek sighed at his persistence.

“I don’t really like people.”

Jayce gave him a shy smile. Nudged his shoulder. “How can you dislike people if you don’t even know them?”

Otabek pressed his lips together and chose not to answer. Hoping that by drowning himself in his cup, Jayce would go away.

When he leaned against the wall, their shoulders barely touching, Otabek frowned.

“Usually when I give short responses, most people leave.”

Jayce just turned his face and grinned. It was blinding. “I’m not most people.”

Jayce never gave up after that, always seeking him out at parties. Handing him a stupid red solo cup of cheap beer and chatting away. Otabek never really had to say much because Jayce always did all the talking. 

Eventually, he warmed up to the idea of having Jayce as a friend. It wasn’t so bad after all, being included in his group. Being invited out to speakeasies or dinner. He never once felt like an outsider. Never once thought that Jayce was taking pity on him because he was a loner.

Their friendship grew the more Jayce watered it. Even without Otabek’s help, it budded and blossomed. It snaked like vines beneath Otabek’s skin until he found himself actually enjoying Jayce’s presence. Actually finding reasons to be near him or around him.

“Me?” Otabek asked, surprised when Jayce had singled him out of their group of friends. It was more of a collection, really, Jayce combing through and finding the introverts as if they were Pokemon that he needed to catch.

“You,” Jayce replied, a familiar smirk playing on his lips. His dimples were the deepest Otabek had ever seen. Funny to think they were a genetic mutation.

“Uh, okay,” Otabek started, chewing at his thumbnail. Jayce was staring at him intently with those silver-not-grey eyes. It made it hard to think. “Never have I ever wanted to kiss Jayce.”

He didn’t, at the time. At least, he thought he didn’t. Jayce was at the top of nearly everyone’s list. Not his, though. Otabek swore up and down he had absolutely no interest in men, even if Jayce was likely the most gorgeous creature he had ever laid eyes on. He smiled in triumph as everyone in their group tipped back a shot. Those eyes never left him. He stared right back. It was a challenge. The sparkle in Jayce’s eyes and the way his right dimple deepened. 

It was as if he were saying  _ I can change that _ , and Otabek wasn’t entirely sure how to handle it. He felt every gaze in the deepest parts of himself, a caress that left goosebumps in its wake. He shivered and tried to focus on the silly game they played.

After the party, Otabek walked Jayce back to his room as he always did. He turned to leave after mumbling a  _ bye _ only to be surprised by the press of Jayce’s fingers into his wrist.

He turned and was met with the warmth of Jayce’s lips. That was the spark that started it all. That was the beginning of the end for him, and he didn’t even know it.

Weeks turned to months, and Otabek eventually gathered the courage to ask Jayce out. He remembered the way Jayce smiled at him, sunshine incarnate before they were a tangle of limbs and lips, groping and tugging at one another.

Jayce had a way of turning him inside out, pulling the bits of him that weren’t meant to be seen to places they shouldn’t have been. He had a way of controlling Otabek, melting him into a puddle at his feet.

Otabek would pull the moon and the stars from the sky for that man. He would bend over backward just to see him smile. Just to hear laughter fall from his lips. 

Their relationship was far from perfect, but Otabek tried. He tried his hardest to make Jayce happy. Tried to be exactly what Jayce needed.

A lot of the time that included handcuffs and Otabek dropping to his knees, but he was quite alright with that. He allowed Jayce to do whatever he wanted. Gave himself away like a Christmas gift because  _ god _ he was happy.

Jayce was a comet that shredded through the sky and destroyed his life. He set fire to Otabek’s soul and left a mess of smoldering ashes in his wake. 

Otabek was certain he would never love anyone as much as he had Jayce.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


“This is really cheesy,” Otabek laughed. His face was flushed as he tried to cover it with his hands. The air smelled of flowers and summer, he’d never forget that.

“Yeah, but you like cheesy,” Jayce replied. He was still on his knee. In the middle of a park surrounded by strangers.

Otabek did like cheesy.

That’s why he said yes and allowed himself to be scooped into a hug. Allowed his heart to leap from his chest and land in the palm of Jayce’s hand. Somewhere he knew it would be safe.

Loving Jayce felt a lot like sunshine being poured into the darkest crevices of his soul.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” Jayce asked, adjusting his glove.

Otabek glared at him from his spot on the sofa, over the frames of his glasses. He had a lot of work to do and going joyriding on a Sunday was a pleasure he wasn’t allowed to partake in often anymore. “Maybe later.”

Jayce pouted. Otabek just waved him off with  _ love you _ .

If only he had known.

If only he had gone with and kept him safe.

If only he hadn’t been too busy to spend a Sunday on his bike with the love of his life.

If only Jayce had been paying attention.

If only he had let go of his bike and broken his arm instead of breaking his neck because he refused to let go.

If only.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


Otabek broke after that. His heart fractured into pieces that eventually fell away. After his denial that it was all just a nightmare. 

He didn’t get out of bed. He didn’t eat. He didn’t drink water. He did nothing but curl up into a ball in his bed and wish for a cessation of the pain that curled around his heart.

Everywhere he looked reminded him of Jayce. In the shirt that he’d left strewn over his side of the bed. In his pants that sat on the floor where he had taken them off. In the toothbrush still in the bathroom. In the cologne that sat atop their dresser.

It took nearly a year for Otabek to finally remove the ring from his finger. Though it just migrated to his pocket, always near. Always a shining beacon of warmth that he would wrap his fingers around in his darkest times.

Two years until Otabek gave away Jayce’s things.

Three years until Otabek could even lift the cover from his motorcycle. He never rode it, though. He would take off the cover and stare at it, hand clasped around the ring in his pocket. He’d consider it every time. Jumping on and starting it up. He remembered what that felt like, but he could never bring himself to indulge.

It reminded him too much of what he had lost.

He would cover it back up and leave the garage after a while, sharp pieces of his fragmented heart like daggers in his chest.

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


Otabek stared down at the papers strewn across his desk. It took every bit of self-control to not knock them all onto the floor. His head hurt and his eyes burned, too many sleepless nights and early mornings taking a toll on him.

Even his hot cup of coffee did nothing to quell his yawning. 

His door swung open without a knock, Otabek not even looking up from the paper he held in his hands. It wasn’t very well written, almost as if the writer had decided to finish typing it up an hour before it was due. If Otabek’s past was anything to go off of, that was likely the case. Though not many people could pull off an A+ paper in an hour.

“You look like shit,” JJ said, slipping into the room. Otabek didn’t acknowledge him. “Look, Beks-”

“I don’t need your lecture, JJ.”

“Yes you do,” JJ started, stepping across the room in a few quick strides to snatch the paper from his hands. Otabek sighed and adjusted his glasses before looking up.

“I don’t. I’m a full grown adult, I really don’t need you telling me what I should do to feel better.”

“I wasn’t going to say you should feel better, Beks. I don’t think you ever will. I was going to say maybe you should find a new place to live, get some new furniture. Change something before you drown in your own grief.”

Otabek leaned back in his chair. He stared at JJ solemnly, lips pursed together in a tight line. He knew JJ wanted nothing but the best for him, he knew that but it still stung.

“I don’t want to move. I quite like my house.”

JJ sighed. Sat in the chair in front of Otabek’s desk and placed his elbows on the surface. “It’s been three years.”

“And?”

“You can’t just live in your bubble of self-pity and sorrow forever.”

“Who says?”

JJ rolled his eyes. “Me. I say. As your best and likely only friend, I do wish you could be happy again. Like when we first met."

Otabek looked away. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not. You drink too much coffee and I know you’ve been smoking again,” JJ paused, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, I can smell it.”

“I’m nearly 29, I believe I am capable of making my own life choices, thank you.”

“You can barely even get yourself out of bed in the morning, I don’t think you’re capable of doing much of anything.”

Otabek glared at him then, leaned forward until JJ leaned back, away from the heat of his gaze. “Leave me alone, JJ.”

JJ stood. Turned his back to Otabek, fingers digging in to the back of the chair. “I just worry about you. I don’t want to find you in your home-” He paused, and Otabek saw his hand move to his face. “I just want you to be happy again.”

He left without another word, the door clicking shut. It was loud as it echoed in his ears, sending a rush of anger that lit up every nerve in his body. 

  
────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


_ “Beautiful,” Jayce whispered, feathered fingertips tracing over Otabek’s chest. It rose and fell beneath his touches, quivering in anticipation. _

_ Otabek didn’t say anything, but that was likely because he couldn’t. He was gagged and bound, flayed open for Jayce in more ways than one. His eyes shined in the light, gleaming and hopeful. Wanting nothing more than Jayce’s touch upon his sweltering skin. _

_ “I love you,” Jayce whispered into the space between his collar bones. _

_ He turned Otabek around, face down in the bed and took him. It was tender and rough, bruising fingers digging into his sides for traction. His wrists hurt where they were bound together behind his back, mouth sore from the gag between his teeth. His jaw ached and drool trailed from his lips, but he had never felt more alive. _

_ “I love you so much,” Jayce whispered again, this time into the back of his neck. His other arm wrapped around Otabek’s body, holding him close.  _

_ Otabek tripped over the brink of it all, a great beautiful darkness splayed out before him.  _

_ He was too sensitive, too tender, too much of everything as Jayce held him in his arms. As he whispered sweet nothings into his ear and sunk his fingers in Otabek’s hair. _

_ Jayce was everything. Hot and intense, like standing far too close to the sun. _

────────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹────────  
  


Otabek studied the ring in his hand. It looked so small and bereft in his palm. As if it didn’t hold a lifetime of promises that had broken and shattered. As if it had never had any meaning.

With trembling fingertips, he put it away. He locked it in a box and put it up on the highest shelf in his closet. He felt the warmth as it receded, felt the pain and the suffering sink their claws into him.

It was time for him to properly grieve. Time for him to move on. Time for him to grow and to smile and to maybe love again.

As he closed the door to his closet, he sunk to the floor and he cried. He cried and cried until his mouth was dry and he had no more tears to shed.

Then he phoned JJ and told him he was sorry. That he was right. That he needed someone to push him back into reality.

He could almost hear the smile on the other end of the line. “I’ll help you,” He said.

Otabek knew he would.

**Author's Note:**

> Me @ me: STOP WRITING NEW FICS YOU IDIOT FINISH THE ONES YOU HAVE  
> Me: Haha nah
> 
> I'm back on Tumblr don't @ me bc I'm fucking triggered by the change of blue [catch me salt posting](https://lecheesie.tumblr.com/)


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